


Calligraphy and Library Books

by Ten_Petals10 (Rachel_Lu)



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (1963), Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Fluffy Ending, Libraries, Library Sex, Love Confessions, Love Letters, Reading, Reading Aloud, TARDIS rooms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-13
Updated: 2015-07-13
Packaged: 2018-04-09 05:08:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4335065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rachel_Lu/pseuds/Ten_Petals10
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor reads to Rose as she practices her calligraphy, and the Doctor comes across words that he's always wanted to say to her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Calligraphy and Library Books

It was a regular occurrence, that the Doctor would read to Rose in the library after an adventure or in the evenings after dinner was cleaned up.  Rose had picked up a lot of hobbies since she'd been on the TARDIS, since everything was at her disposal, and tonight would be her third night trying her hand at calligraphy.

The Doctor appreciated her interest in the fine art of it, but her writing meant she couldn't snuggle up next to him on the couch, and he was absolutely not bitter about that.  No, not bitter at all.  That's not something to be bitter about, especially when she was broadening her horizons.  Oh, he was proud of her, of course. 

And not at all bitter.

Heading to the TARDIS library had become an unspoken agreement, something they did, something they wanted to do, and something both knew they didn't have to ask for.  Rose suggested the Doctor pick a new book for them as she went to go pick up her calligraphy set.

He didn't know where to start with the books.  Almost every book every written in the universe adorned the shelves of the frankly massive library, and he had trouble knowing which book Rose would want to read.

Giving up and being thoughtful and precise about the books he picked, he simply grabbed one and started to get comfortable, figuring Rose really wouldn't mind if it was something a little on the dry and boring side. 

He shucked his jacket and tie and settled himself on the giant plush couch that could easily be a bed if one tried hard enough.  He telepathically asked the TARDIS to start a fire in the fireplace as Rose entered the room.

"Hello," Rose beamed at him as she entered the room with her set.  She set it down on the coffee table in front of the couch and sat herself down next to his feet.  "What's the book called?  It was a new book, right?"

"Right," the Doctor nodded and glanced down at the cover for the first time.  " _'Souls in the World'_ " he said, scrunching his nose up at the title.

Rose turned around and gave him a bemused look.  "That sounds like a romance novel," she said suspiciously. 

"I just grabbed one, I swear," the Doctor spread his hands in surrender.  "I've never read it before.  If you'd like I can get a different one."

"No," Rose shook her head.  "You look really comfy, and the title's got my interest.  Carry on, read it," she nudged his knee with her elbow and they both tried to ignore the spark that went through both of them at the contact.

"Ah, alright, this one it is," the Doctor replied.  He cleared his throat, now a little wary of the book, and opened it, chancing another glance at Rose before beginning.  "'A woman of virtue, torn asunder by loves lost and her family's departure from her life, the valiant Rose Dole-' hey," the Doctor lifted his gaze from the book and Rose turned from her calligraphy to look at him.

She grinned.  "Not the first woman with the name Rose, Doctor," she laughed, "Go on."

A lot of the book went without incident.  Rose Dole was indeed a valiant heroine, a savior in petticoats, and the Doctor kept drawing similarities between this Rose and the girl before him.  He pretended like he wasn't though, and continued on.

The lights started to dim in the TARDIS and the Doctor began to reach the end of the book, Rose still working diligently on writing some sort of letter.  He was tempted to read it over her shoulder, but then she would know that he wasn't reading their book and it was just be, very simply, a rather large mess.  A mess that would probably end with him stuttering and fleeing from the room, which he really didn't want to do, because he liked being with Rose.

The trouble started when Rose Dole found a love interest, a particularly dashing man who could match her in spunk and excitement.  He found himself reading the dialogue with a lot more feeling, and the scratch of Rose Tyler's pen growing less consistent as she faltered when he read Dole's love's lines. 

He skimmed ahead as he read, a useful Time Lord trick, and found a line that made his hearts skip.  Oh, no.  Rose Dole's man was going to tell her that he loved her.  There was no getting out of this, and for some reason, he knew that if those words left his mouth than everything would be changed between them.

As the dialogue between the lovers progressed, Rose finished her letter and set the pen down as slowly as she possibly could.  The Doctor's gaze occasionally flicked to her as he read, and when he finally reached the line, he drew in a breath and looked at her, hoping she would turn to look at him. 

His hearts thundered in his chest and he knew, he _knew_ that she had to be feeling the tension that was almost palpable between them.  He could hear her breathing now, letter finished and promptly forgotten.

"I love you, Rose."

That was all it took.  He was a Time Lord and couldn't figure out how she had gotten into his lap that fast.  But it didn't really matter, did it?  He dropped the book and stared up into her face. 

"I have the strangest feeling you meant that," she said quietly, her arms having found their way around his neck.

"I have the strangest feeling that I did, too," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper as he said it.

She pulled him up at the same time she moved down and their lips crashed together in a frantic kiss, his hands skirting up her back and tugging her closer to him, hers moving up to tangle deliciously in his hair.

She couldn't get close enough to him, pressing right up against his chest and trying to simultaneously cuddle and snog the life out of him.  Eventually she pulled away, gasping for breath.  The Doctor didn't rest, his mouth descending on her neck, nipping and sucking at her pulse point, a hand reaching up to tangle in her hair. 

Rose had previously been of the firm belief that she could've run through the TARDIS naked and the Doctor wouldn't of cared.  Based on what he was currently doing to her neck, this probably would've been the outcome had she gone starkers.

She threaded her hands in his hair again and tugged him back to her mouth.  She simply savored him for a moment, then pulled back and cupped his face in her hands.  "I love you," she whispered.

And that was all it took.  It must've been a Time Lord trick, to flip her onto her back that fast without her noticing.

***

They were cuddled under a blanket, the Doctor's arm around her shoulders, stroking her upper arm as she dozed on his chest.  She was close to falling asleep, he knew, but he had another question for her first.

"What's that?" he asked, pointing at her abandoned paper on the table.

Rose buried her face in his chest, her cheeks coloring deep red.  "It's nothing," she whispered.

"I'd like to think that after today you can share anything with me," the Doctor scoffed in reply. 

Rose giggled and sat up to pick up the now fully dry piece of paper,  "Okay, you win," she lay back in his arms and lifted the paper up.  "I was writing what I thought about you, while you were reading to me."

The Doctor thought for a moment, the realization of it hitting him.  She really did love him, didn't she?  He nudged her hair with his nose.  "Go on, then," he said lowly, reveling in her shiver.  "Read it."

"Okay," she whispered, sounding nervous as she cuddled into him more.  He wrapped an arm around her encouragingly, reminding her that he loved her right back, and that was what it was about, after all.

She cleared her throat delicately and adjusted the paper in her hand.  "'Doctor, I write this letter in the finest writing in my finest language as you sit right over my shoulder.  There are some days I think I'm going to burst for loving you.  And sometimes I think you love me back, that it makes a difference for you what I do.  And you're reading about this great heroine and her lover right now, and I would be anything to be Rose Dole and for you to be that man.  You're beautiful, but it's not about any of that for me, because you've always been downright gorgeous.

"You'll never know," Rose continued, "But I hope someday I'll be able to tell you just how much you mean to me," she pressed a kiss to his chest before going on, "But you're my world, Doctor, and when I told you I'd stay forever, I meant it.  You have to know that.  All my love, Rose.'"

She set the paper back down on the table and lowered his gaze from his face, not making eye contact.

"Rose," he whispered, "Come here."

She lifted her eyes to his and moved closer to him.  He kissed her gently, hoping that everything he struggled to say could be poured out in that one moment.  It had to be. 

And right then, in the library, planning to sleep through the night on a giant plush couch, they could believe that they had forever. 


End file.
